


Tequila Love

by kiwiana



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, Drunk Sex, Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-01
Updated: 2010-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-12 23:45:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2128947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/kiwiana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared’s been in love with his best friend since the day they met, but Jensen only reciprocates when he’s drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Swear I Just Found Everything I Need

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter title is from Nine Inch Nails. 
> 
> The closest I ever came to owning these characters is an iPod named Padackles. No harm, no foul, and no offence is intended by using them for my own ends.
> 
> Originally published on LiveJournal 2010-02-07.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared’s not exactly sober himself, but he’s enjoying the feel of Jensen wrapped around him, even if it doesn’t mean anything more than a high blood alcohol level.

Jared Padalecki meets Jensen Ackles for the first time outside a casting room, where they’re preparing to read together. Jensen smiles at him and holds out his hand, all southern charm, and Jared can hear the slight twinge of his home accent in Jensen’s voice.

“You from Texas?” he asks as he grasps Jensen’s hand, and watches the polite, professional smile Jensen had been giving him transform into something more genuine.

“Dallas,” Jensen replies. “And I don’t think anybody but a native could have picked that.” He raises an eyebrow, and Jared grins.

“San Antonio,” he says, the drawl he usually tries to hide coming out thick. “But I promise I’ll forgive you for being a Cowboys fan.”

Jensen looks surprised for a moment, then laughs. Jared joins in, and it’s only then that he realises they haven’t broken the handshake. He disentangles himself before looking back at Jensen, who’s still smiling broadly.

 _Well, shit,_  Jared thinks.  _This is it_.

* * *

As they film the first season of  _Supernatural_ , Jared falls in love a little more every day.

He’s pretty sure Jensen is oblivious, even when Jared can’t keep his hands off the guy; it helps that Jared is a naturally touchy person, hugging everyone who looks as though they need a friend.

It probably also helps that Jensen’s met Sandy and instantly loved her. Jared’s not surprised—everyone who meets Sandy instantly loves her. Even now, with Jensen, the last thing he wants to do is hurt her.

But Jensen remains oblivious, and so he doesn’t have to.

* * *

When Jared gets the call saying they’ve been picked up for a second season, he’s speed-dialling Jensen before he even gets out of his chair.

“Fuckin’  _yes_!” is how Jensen answers, and Jared laughs.

“Round everyone up, would you?” he asks. “This calls for a night out. The Sin Bin, 8pm.”

“You read my mind, Jay,” Jensen says warmly. “See you then.”

* * *

Jared  _really_  likes tequila slammers.

Not for the taste or for the fact that they get him nicely pissed, though. Jared likes tequila slammers because he  _loves_  when Jensen’s drunk.

See, when Jensen’s drunk, he gets grabby. Really, really grabby. A little after eleven, he has one arm wrapped around Jared’s waist and his head resting on Jared’s shoulder. Jared’s not exactly sober himself, but he’s enjoying the feel of Jensen wrapped around him, even if it doesn’t mean anything more than a high blood alcohol level.

It takes him a while to register Jensen’s hand resting high on his upper thigh. When he does, though, he starts and looks down. Jensen smiles at him, and reaches up to whisper in his ear.

“Think we should go home, Jay?” he asks, his voice low and hot, and Jared nods, his dick pressed hard against his jeans. They say their hurried goodbyes before stumbling out the door, both unsteady on their feet from a combination of alcohol and lust. There are cabs parked outside, and Jensen falls into one. Jared follows him in and gives the driver his address. Jensen’s hand lands back on his thigh before creeping upwards.

 _This is it_ , Jared thinks, swallowing hard. Jensen starts leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on Jared’s neck, and then he’s not thinking at all.

* * *

When he wakes up in the morning, he’s in his own bed, and Jensen’s not there. He has a moment of panic before he remembers that they only made it as far as the spare bedroom last night. He probably got up at some point in the night to piss, and stumbled back into his own room out of habit.

He can hear the coffee maker running, and he takes a deep breath before he sits up, ignoring the pounding in his head as he yanks a pair of sweatpants over his legs. He makes his way downstairs, his heart thudding harder than his hangover. This can go one of two ways, he knows that—either Jensen feels the same way he does, in which case awesome, or he doesn’t, in which case their friendship is probably fucked.

Jensen smiles wanly at him as he enters the kitchen, and Jared realises that if his hangover’s bad, Jensen’s must be terrible. He pours himself a cup of coffee without saying a word, and leans back against the cupboard. He’ll wait for Jensen to speak, he’s decided.

“Hey, Jay?” Jensen says. Jared takes a breath.  _This is it_ , he thinks.

“Yeah?” he says out loud.

“Thanks for getting me home last night, man. I don’t really remember a whole lot after my tenth shot—” he laughs slightly, then winces— “I’m getting too old for this shit, man. But I really appreciate it; I just wanted to let you know. You’re a great friend, Jay.”

Jared feels his heart clench. He hadn’t considered this outcome.

Jensen smiles, then puts his cup in the sink. “Anyway, I’d better get going...” he looks at Jared then, registers the pain in his face. “Shit, man, take an aspirin and get back to bed. You look like hell.” 

He steps forward, giving Jared a hug. “I’ll see you at work, man. Get some rest,” he says. He picks up his coat from by the door, and then he’s gone.

“Shit,” Jared whispers quietly. He swears to himself that he’ll never let that happen again.


	2. I’m Drunk and Right Now I’m So in Love With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two of them have been here before, and every time, Jared swears it’s the last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Nine Inch Nails.

There’s a bottle of tequila in Jensen’s hand, and no matter how forcefully Jared tries to take it off him, Jensen keeps on drinking. There’s no rhyme or reason to it—he just came home to find Jensen like this—and really, Jared should be the one drowning his sorrows, but instead he’s watching over his best friend.

When Jensen knocks the bottle over, spilling what’s left of the alcohol all over himself and the table, Jared draws the line.

“Come on, Jen, I’m taking you to bed,” he declares, hoisting Jensen out of the chair and onto his feet. Jensen sways, leaning into him.

“Your bed, Jay?” he asks, his voice low and almost predatory.

Jared laughs bitterly. “ _Your_  bed. Sleep it off, ‘cause you’re going to regret this in the morning,” he says, ignoring the  _want_  lodged deep in his chest.

“I never regret you in the morning,” Jensen murmurs, and his voice is clearer than it should be for someone who’s downed most of a bottle of tequila. Jared swallows hard, turning away.

* * *

Jared’s been in love with his best friend since the day they met, but Jensen only reciprocates when he’s drunk. The two of them have been here before, and every time, Jared swears it’s the last time.

Which is why he doesn’t quite know how he got  _here_ , his lips pressed to Jensen’s throat as he peels off the layers of clothing between them. Jensen arches up against him, his breathing harsh as he moans into Jared’s ear. His hand slips down between them, gripping Jared’s cock in his hand and swiping his thumb over the head before beginning to stroke. It lacks finesse, but Jared still has to bite down on Jensen’s shoulder to stop himself coming right there.

They fumble around in the dark until Jared finds the lube, his hands grasping the small bottle as Jensen rocks against him. They’re skin to skin, pressed against each other at every point, and Jared’s so lost in the here and now he can’t comprehend the after.

He slicks up his fingers and pushes them in: one, two, not trying to be slow or gentle, but Jensen takes whatever Jared gives him, keening and begging for more. Jared’s happy to oblige, slicking up his dick and positioning it at Jensen’s entrance before finally,  _finally_  pushing it inside.

Jensen feels so good wrapped around him, and Jared wishes that Jensen would remember this feeling—the two of them, in that first moment when Jared slips inside. He tries to savour it, but Jensen snaps his hips up and Jared acts on the not-so-subtle invitation, slamming into him.

This isn’t tender, it’s not making love; they’re fucking, matching each other for strength and passion, and it’s not long before Jared wraps his hand around Jensen’s dick and strokes him, only a few times before Jensen cries out and comes, splattering them both. The sight is enough to send Jared tumbling over the edge with him and he thrusts one last time, letting himself go.

* * *

Tomorrow, Jensen won’t remember this. He’ll wake up in his own bed, alone. He’ll ring Danneel, his fiancée, light of his life, who won’t suspect a thing. All Jared will be left with is a fresh set of jerking off fantasies and a stinging knowledge of how it could have been.  
  
Jared knows. They’ve been here before, and they’ll be here again.


	3. My Moral Standing is Lying Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last time, it’s Jensen’s stag night, and the guest of honour is so hammered he can barely stand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Nine Inch Nails.
> 
> This is not the happy ending you’re looking for. Sorry.

The last time, it’s Jensen’s stag night, and the guest of honour is so hammered he can barely stand. 

Chris is at the bar, ordering another round of shots; the waitress is giggling, putting as much of her cleavage on display as possible—in her uniform, it’s quite a bit—as he murmurs something to her. An invitation to his hotel room, probably, or at least as far as his truck. Jared watches them as he finishes his beer, watches the way he tosses a grin over his shoulder as he walks away, a promise if ever Jared saw one. Chris makes it look easy, like a southern accent and a disarming smile is all you need to sweet-talk your way into anyone’s bed.

It’s bullshit, is what it is. Jared forces a smile on his face as the waitress makes her way over to their table, a tray of Oklahoma Rattlers balanced precariously in her hands. She sets the drinks down on the table and Chris winks at her before she saunters away. They each pick up a glass, raising them to the centre in a silent toast before they drink. Jared splutters slightly as the Tabasco hits the back of his throat; he’s not the only one, though, and they all start laughing.

“That’s the last fuckin’ time we let you order the drinks,” Jensen slurs in Chris’ direction. Jared chuckles, then starts as he feels a hand on his thigh. He risks a glance over at Jensen and finds him staring straight back, his pupils blown, lips slightly parted. Jared’s breath hitches as Jensen slides off the stool—for one insane moment, he thinks Jensen’s going to crawl under the table and suck him off right there in front of everyone and okay, his dick likes that visual a  _little_  more than it should, dammit.

“I need to take a piss,” Jensen announces to the table instead, looking pointedly at Jared. 

He shouldn’t go. He could stay here and have another beer, talk to the guys, while Jensen takes a leak. That’s what he should do; that would be the right thing to do.

But obviously, it’s not what he’s going to do.

“I’ll join you,” he says instead, standing up and wow, okay, he’s probably quite a bit more drunk than he realised. Motherfucking tequila.

They don’t say a word as they make their way to the bathroom but as soon as they’re inside, Jensen grabs Jared by the collar and shoves him into the nearest stall. Jared barely has time to process before his jeans are around his ankles and Jensen’s on his knees, looking up at Jared with this goddamn expression like he’d love nothing more than to get his lips around that cock.

“Fuck,” Jared hisses as Jensen’s mouth slides over the end of his dick, before words escape him completely. Between the fucking noises Jensen’s making—greedy, desperate noises; a reminder that Jensen really,  _really_  likes giving head—and the alcohol buzzing around his system, it’s an embarrassingly short time before Jared’s coming, biting back a curse as Jensen swallows it down without complaint.

Jared’s legs are buckling underneath him but he tugs Jensen back to his feet, undoing his pants and working a hand into his boxers. It only takes half a dozen strokes before Jensen gasps, spurting all over Jared’s hand.

As their breathing returns to normal, the realisation that they’re two six-foot-plus men crammed into a stall hits them. They untangle themselves without a word as Jensen unlocks the door and tumbles out first. He glances up at Jared, then turns and leaves the bathroom without a word.

Jared leans back, banging his head against the wall. “Motherfucker.”

* * *

Jared’s standing behind Jensen as they both adjust their ties in the mirror. Surprisingly, neither of them are showing much sign of last night’s binge; there are slight shadows under their eyes, maybe, but nothing a bit of concealer won’t cover up.

Jensen’s grinning to himself, damn near bouncing on the balls of his feet. Jared swallows hard.

“Jen?”

“Hmm?” Jensen answers absently, straightening his jacket. Jared almost chickens out. Maybe he  _should_  chicken out. Jensen’s happy, dammit; who is he to mess with that?

“Don’t marry her,” he blurts instead. Jensen’s hands stutter over the collar he’s now fiddling with. He raises shocked eyes to meet Jared’s in the mirror.

“ _What_?” he whispers before whirling around to face Jared. “What do you mean, ‘don’t marry her’?”

Jared bites his lip, takes a step forward. “Don’t marry her,” he repeats, his voice tight. He raises one arm to lay on Jensen’s shoulder but Jensen flinches away; Jared lets it drop to his side instead. “Please,” he adds, his voice breaking.

“ _Don’t marry her_? Jared, I love her. Why the hell wouldn’t I marry her, and  _why the hell are you saying this now_?” Jensen’s voice is rising in his agitation, his eyes slightly wild. Jared stands firm.

“Do you know what you’re like when you’re drunk, Jensen? Do you have any idea how many times you’ve fucked me and forgotten about it by the morning? Jesus, how fucking much do you love her when my dick’s in your mouth, huh?” he snaps. He sees a shutter go down behind Jensen’s eyes.

“You think I don’t remember that, Jay?” he asks.

Jared’s pulse is suddenly roaring in his ears, his breath shaking. “What?”

“I remember fucking you, Jay,” Jensen mutters, not meeting Jared’s eyes. “I remember the first time and the last time and probably every goddamn time in between. Dunno how anyone could forget having your cock up their ass,” he adds, but the joke falls flat.

“Why didn’t you…” Jared tries, the words getting lost in his throat.

Jensen sighs. “Because I thought I could have both. But that’s not the way the world works, Jay. I’m marrying Danneel,” he meets Jared’s eyes, “and if you’re about to come down with a migraine, or food poisoning or something, and you have to leave? I’ll understand.”

Jared’s mouth opens and closes a few times, but there’s nothing else he can say. He turns on his heel and walks out of the room.

* * *

Genevieve comes home later that night. She doesn’t say a word as she takes the bottle out of his hand before crawling into bed beside him, wrapping her arms around his waist and snuggling in close. She doesn’t ask about his migraine-slash-food poisoning and she doesn’t ask about the alcohol; she just kisses his shoulder and sighs as her body relaxes into his.

“We should set a date for the wedding,” he whispers into her hair, and feels her nod against him.

“Sure thing, babe. In the morning.”


End file.
